


To Build a Home

by river_soul



Category: Defending Jacob (TV 2020)
Genre: Breeding, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Stealthing, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29664735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: Dreaming of becoming a mother through adoption, you finally concede defeat after a long two years. Devastated and alone, you let your guard down once your lawyer drops by to console you.
Relationships: Andy Barber/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	To Build a Home

On your 35th birthday, you decided you were done waiting for the life you wanted.

Your boyfriend was never going to get his act together and you weren’t magically going to find Prince Charming and have a storybook wedding. You wanted a baby more than anything and you were tired of waiting around for someone else to make it happen. You knew your friends and family were worried about your decision. They had a hundred reasons why it was a bad idea. It would be too expensive to adopt, too hard to raise a kid on your own and the one that rankled most - you’d regret the decision once you met someone special. You ignored them and two days after your birthday found a lawyer specializing in family law to start the adoption process. 

Andy Barber had come highly recommended through a family friend. He had an excellent case history, a sterling reputation and most importantly, he was within your budget. You liked how kind he sounded over the phone and that he didn’t laugh like the other lawyers did when you told him you intended to adopt as a single woman. He warned you it might be harder but was eager to help. 

When you met in person you didn’t expect him to be near your age or so handsome. With a neatly trimmed beard and perfectly straight white teeth, he looked like he belonged on a tv drama about lawyers, not slogging his way through the messy family court circuit. You quickly learned that beyond the flashy watches, expensive suits and the sleek car was a man dedicated to helping children and would-be parents. 

Over the next year, he worked tirelessly to make sure you were in the best position to succeed. When paperwork got lost or misplaced he hunted it down diligently and fixed any roadblocks that came up. He was working well past the time you paid him for and you were grateful. What little money you had you were saving for your future son or daughter. Through it all Andy was at your side, celebrating the small wins and consoling you through the heartbreak that came when the adoptions fell through. 

You’d started to consider him a friend after all the time you spent together which made it even harder to tell him you were stopping the process. After nearly two years with nothing to show except for untold tears and a dwindling bank account, you were ready for a break. Andy was understanding when you told him the news, quick to pull you into a tight hug that brought on more tears.

“I’ll be here to help when you’re ready to try again.”

Even though Andy had promised to keep in touch with you, you were still surprised when he texted the next morning. You were hesitant to respond, already embarrassed by how emotional you got over lunch with him yesterday, but then he called. His voice was so sweet and encouraging that you found yourself talking to him for hours that night and the next too. You couldn’t talk to your own family about everything, they were overjoyed that you’d stopped the process. They were already trying to set you up on blind dates. 

A small part of you, the one that nursed a crush on Andy, was thrilled to have his attention. The more rational part of you knew he couldn't possibly be into someone like you. He probably felt sorry for you and your state of affairs. Someone as single, successful, and attractive as Andy likely had a Rolodex of beautiful women at his beck and call. You’d seen at least two beautiful waitresses slip him their number with the check. He'd been too professional or polite to say anything, but you saw him place the folded piece of paper in his coat pocket.

You were going to stop returning his calls and texts you decided. Slowly fade out of his life. As much as you enjoyed his attention you didn’t want his pity. He’d probably forget about you in a week.

\--

By the time Friday night rolled around you were well and truly ready for a weekend alone with copious amounts of comfort food and mindless tv shows. 

You’d put away the last of your groceries when you heard a knock at the front door. You were prepared to ignore it when the second knock came, louder and firmer than the first. You crept carefully to the door and looked through the peephole. You were surprised to find Andy standing on your porch, his briefcase tucked under his arm and a large brown bag in his hand. Before he could knock a third time you opened the door.

“Andy?” you questioned. 

“Hey,” he greeted. “You didn’t return my last two texts and phone call so I wanted to come and check on you. I figured you might need some cheering up,” he said, lifting the bag in his hand. 

You recognized the logo from one of your favorite Italian restaurants in town. 

“Oh,” you said, taken back by the gesture and his presence at your home. 

“I got some wine too. Red, right?” he asked. 

“Oh, um, yes,” you told him, too surprised to say much else. When neither of you spoke again you realized he was waiting for an invitation. “Please come in,” you said, opening the door wider to let him inside. 

Andy’s face lit up as he took in the living room that was full of colorful paintings and photos of your family on the wall. You felt a brief spasm of embarrassment, your eclectic collection of furniture and knick-knacks probably looked gaudy compared to whatever expensive, modern decor his place was decorated in.

“I like it. It’s cozy. Homey,” he said with a wistful smile. “Good place to raise a family.”

At the pained expression on your face, he swore. 

“Shit, sorry. I’m an idiot.” 

You waved off the hand he tried to place on your shoulder. 

“It’s ok. It is what it is,” you told him with a sad smile. “What do you have in the bag?” you asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Little bit of everything,” he admitted. “Wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“You didn’t have to do this Andy,” you told him with a frown, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed by his gesture. 

“But I wanted to,” he said with a smile. “Now, show me to your kitchen cause I’m starving and dying for a glass of wine after this week.”

Despite your hesitation, you actually had a wonderful time with Andy over the next hour and even found yourself laughing at his stories. The food he brought was delicious and the wine was a perfect blend of tart and fruity. You didn’t even realize you’d finished your third glass until he was uncorking another bottle and pouring you a fourth. 

“Oh, no. I shouldn’t,” you told him when he pushed the glass into your hands.

“What, you gotta drive home?” he asked with a quirked brow, making you giggle. “Now, are we allowed to have wine in the living room? Cause I have to tell you, honey, these wooden stools are killing my back.”

You blinked at the unexpected endearment. It wasn’t the first one he’d used tonight but this one was accompanied by a large, warm hand on your shoulder. Was Andy hitting on you? 

No. It must have been the wine getting to you. He was just being kind. 

“We can sit on the couch,” you told him with a nervous laugh, leading him into the living room on unsteady legs. 

When you took a seat on the far end of the couch Andy sat next to you, slinging an arm over the back of the couch. His fingers grazed your shoulder. The brief touch made your skin tingle and your breath halt in your throat. He was close enough that you could feel the heat of his body and smell the faint scent of whatever expensive cologne he wore. 

You cleared your throat nervously as the silence stretched out uncomfortably, taking a big gulp of wine to ease your nerves. Beside you Andy sighed and rubbed his palm along his thighs in a restless sort of gesture. When he spoke a moment later he was still staring straight ahead, gaze unfocused. 

“It may surprise you, but I know what you’re going through to an extent,” he told you quietly. “My ex-wife said she wanted kids when we got married. We talked about it for years but she kept pushing it off and pushing it off. There was always an excuse. We didn’t have enough money. The timing wasn’t right. She wanted to wait until next year. Then she finally admitted she didn’t want them."

You heard the pain in his voice and watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily.

"It was strange to find myself north of 40 and single with no kids. Women on the dating apps seem more interested in finding a sugar daddy or for someone to parent their kids. No one wants to start a family with a divorced workaholic.”

“Oh, Andy,” you said softly, turning to face him as you drew your legs underneath you. You laid a tentative hand on his thick arm, thumb stroking the curve of his bicep. No wonder he was so dedicated to helping you and his other clients. 

“I didn’t tell you that for sympathy. Just wanted you to know you’re not alone,” he said, resting his hand over yours. 

He gave it a quick squeeze, the sweet gesture enough to make a few stray tears fall. You looked away from his bright gaze and wiped at them, embarrassed. 

“Ugh, sorry. I’m an emotional drunk tonight it seems.”

“It’s ok,” he assured you gently. 

When you looked back at Andy you were startled by how close his face was to yours. You felt the warmth of his breath fall across your cheek and smelled the wine on his lips. Transfixed by his beautiful blue eyes you didn’t move away when he shifted forward and titled his head just enough to slot your mouths together. He swallowed the sound you made when your lips touched, something between a sigh and moan as he pulled you against him. 

He buried a hand in your hair and the careful way he cradled your skull was in contrast to the frenzied, desperate way he kissed you. He groaned when you opened your mouth, letting his tongue explore you. The kiss lasted long enough to leave you dizzy and desperate for air when he finally pulled away. In the dim lighting of the room, his eyes looked almost black. 

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted to you with a smile.

“Oh,” you said unintelligently, the combination of his kiss and the wine leaving you dumbstruck.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he told you, pulling you closer. “I couldn’t do anything while you were my client. Wouldn’t have been ethical.”

You felt warm all over, skin prickling with a strange heat as your heart thundered in your ears in a way you couldn’t blame the wine for. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that? So fucking sweet,” he said, nipping at your lower lip with a groan. “So earnest. Always such a good girl.”

At your sharp intake of breath he smiled at you. 

“You like that, huh? Being called a good girl.”

“Andy, I- I,” you stammered, face hot with embarrassment. 

“Shh,” he soothed. “It’s ok, I know you do.”

Andy captured your lips again as a large hand pushed your dress up, exposing your thighs. You squirmed in his lap as he reached between your legs and nudged them apart. When you tried to pull away the hand in your hair tightened, holding you against him. His fingers ran along your damp underwear and you felt him smile against your mouth. 

“You’re already wet for me, honey. I know you want this too. Saw how you’d look at me,” he whispered. You felt him push aside your underwear to drag a finger through your slit. “Tell me you want this.”

Your head was swimming from the combination of the wine and the way he was touching and kissing you. You could feel the hard press of his erection against your ass.

“I want you, Andy,” you gasped, your head falling back as he worked a finger inside you and drew his thumb over your clit firmly. 

You rolled your hips against his hand as he kept up the rhythm, adding a second thick finger a moment later. You both groaned at the sensation and he leaned forward to kiss you again, his hot tongue sweeping into your mouth as he continued to pump his fingers inside you. You could feel your orgasm approaching, your legs trembling as the coil in your gut tightened. Just as you reached the precipice he drew his hand away and you whined at the loss of contact. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” He asked.

“Down the hall,” you panted, breathless and desperate to have his fingers inside you again. 

“Come on,” he said, urging you to stand. 

When you swayed dangerously on your feet he grabbed your forearms to steady you before pushing you forward, his hands around your waist. You tumbled on the bed together, the feel of his large body over yours almost enough to make you moan. It'd been nearly two years since someone touched you and now that he had you felt like you'd go mad if he didn't do it again.

“God, look at you,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear. “You’re desperate for it, huh?”

“Please. Andy, please,” you gasped, rubbing your thighs together to try and alleviate the ache. 

“Good girls use their words,” he told you, drawing back to look down at you with an unreadable expression. “What do you want?”

“I need you inside me. Please,” you said, too drunk and too desperate to care how pathetic and wanton you sounded. 

"I'm gonna give you everything you want," he promised. "Fill you up like you need."

He drew away from you to stand at the edge of the bed. There was something dark and primal in his gaze that sent a shiver of fear and desire through you. 

“Take your clothes off,” he ordered.

You were quick to comply, ripping your dress over your head with a jerky movement as you fumbled with the clasp on your bra before shimming out of your underwear. When you looked up again Andy was naked, fisting his cock in his hand. He was big enough that you felt yourself swallow reflexively. 

“Lay down,” he told you softly before climbing over you to settle himself between your thighs. 

“Wait,” you told him, a hand on his broad chest. “Condom, I’m not...I’m not on anything,” you admitted. 

Something flashed in his eyes and for a moment you thought he was going to ignore you but then he smiled and reached down to fumble through his wallet. You heard the telltale crinkle of the wrapper and laid your head back and closed your eyes, vision swimming as the wine continued to work in your system.

You opened your eyes when you felt Andy’s large, warm palm cup your face. You smiled up at him almost dreamily as he leaned down to kiss you. You let yourself get lost in the soft wetness of his mouth as he lined himself up, the head of his cock brushing over your clit. He entered you in one sharp thrust a moment later, jolting the bed and making you gasp into his mouth. You were wet from earlier but he was big enough that you still felt the sting of his size. 

“Such a good girl. Look at you taking me so well,” he praised as he continued to work himself in and out of you, his steady rhythm building you up. “God, you were made for me.”

You moaned his name in response, head thrown back as you let him fuck you hard and fast. Eyes closed, you surrendered to the pleasure he was building between your legs. It might have been the alcohol or the fact you haven't been with a man in so long but all it took was a firm stroke of his fingers across your clit for you to come with a choked-off sob.

“Fuck,” Andy groaned, hunching his back as he hammered into you harder and harder. “Gonna fill you up so good, honey,” he promised.

He sounded absolutely wrecked and desperate above you as he worked himself to completion. You felt him grab the back of your thigh and shove himself deep inside you as he came with a groan. 

You expected him to pull away after a moment but instead, he lowered himself over you, resting his weight on his forearms as he kissed you sweetly. He twitched inside you when you shifted, body thrumming with the afterglow of your orgasm. 

“Stay,” he said softly, brushing a few errant strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead. “Wanna feel you as long as I can.”

“Okay,” you told him with a smile, overwhelmed by the emotion you saw in his eyes. 

You didn’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such tenderness and care. 

“Relax, close your eyes,” he encouraged, fingers running over your cheek and jaw.

The feel of his fingers dragging over your skin lightly was enough to make your eyelids flutter closed. A few minutes later you succumbed to the pull of sleep. 

\--

You woke with a soft grunt, head throbbing as you blinked against the sunlight streaming in through your blinds. When you sat up a tenderness between your legs made itself known. Your mouth felt dry and the urge to pee had you stumbling your way to the bathroom.

In the kitchen you heard Andy moving around, the quiet clink of pans and glasses floated through the open bedroom door. As hungover as you felt, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you thought about last night. It almost didn’t seem real. You slept with Andy and even more amazingly, he seemed to genuinely like you. Part of you hoped this wasn’t a one time thing. After everything he shared with you last night you felt like you could have something real and genuine together. Your time together before this was mostly professional and polite, nothing like last night. It excited you to think about what could develop between you in time. 

God, the things Andy did to you last night. He’d woken you up after you drifted off the first time, his mouth on your cunt and his fingers inside you. You’d let him take your body two more times after that, your memories a hazy, pleasured mess. You’d never had that much sex in your life before. He’d been insatiable. 

After you peed, you brushed your teeth and washed your face, trying to make yourself a little more presentable. It wasn’t until you were coming out of the bathroom, slipping on a robe to cover your nudity, that you noticed the unopened condom wrapper on your bedside table. You frowned.

You remembered him reaching for the wrapper, how it crinkled when he opened it. Did he open it? You never actually saw him put the condom on but you knew he wouldn’t lie to you either. You felt a little silly as you looked through the trash can in your bathroom. When you didn’t find any wrappers or condoms a bubble of worry rose up inside you. You emptied the bin on the floor, sorting through the trash in a frenzy but you came up empty again. When you looked in the guest bathroom trash can you found nothing either.

Trying not to panic, you made your way into the kitchen. Andy was flipping a pancake when he looked over his shoulder at you with a soft smile.

“Hey, honey,” he greeted. 

You felt your anxiety subside a little as you realized he was cooking and had set the table for breakfast. Andy was a good man, there was probably a reasonable explanation for the missing condom wrappers. 

“Hi,” you said, feeling suddenly shy. You weren’t sure how to bring up your question. “Um, I didn’t find any condom wrappers in the trash, we did use protection last night, right?”

“Now why would I do that?” Andy asked you with a hum, the expression on his face serious as he turned to face you. 

“What?” you asked, sure you must have misheard him. “Andy…”

“I thought you wanted a baby,” he said, pushing off from the counter to come closer to you. “I asked you every step of the way what you wanted last night. You told me you wanted me inside you. Don’t you remember, honey?”

You stared at him in shock. He couldn’t be serious. When you stumbled away he was quick to grab your wrist. You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.

“Shhh it's ok, don't cry,” Andy said, pulling you into his arms as you struggled against him. 

You felt his hand on the back of your neck, grip unyielding as he forced you to lay your cheek against his chest. Your face felt hot against his bare skin. He made a soothing sound low in his throat as he held you to him. 

“I gave you what you wanted, sweetheart. A baby. A family.”

“No,” you sobbed. “Not like this.”

"I want a family, you want a baby. This way we both get what we want. Is that really so bad?”

You struggled against his strong arms, desperate to be away from him but he didn’t release you. Instead he pressed his lips to the crown of your head and your stomach churned. This couldn’t be happening. It was like some twisted nightmare. 

“It might not take,” you whispered but even as you said the words you didn’t quite believe them yourself. Your period was two weeks ago. 

“Honey, I came inside you three times last night,” Andy said with a laugh. “You’re stuffed full of me.”

“If I am I-I won't let you,” you started shakily, the rest of your words dying in your throat when he squeezed you tightly. 

“I know you won’t get rid of it, too desperate for a baby and too Catholic,” he said, running his knuckle over the swell of your cheek tenderly. “And when you do make me a father, there is nothing that’s going to keep me from my child. I’m the best family lawyer in the state of Massachusetts and I have all the time and money in the world,” he warned you. 

At your distressed expression he leaned down to brush his lips over yours. 

“But it doesn’t have to be like that. We can do this right. Get married in the church like your mom always wanted. Nice Catholic wedding before anyone realizes you’ve got a bun in the oven.”

You stared at him, wide eyed and horrified.

“I know that was what you wanted before all this. I’ll be a good husband, a good father. Keep you full and round with babies like you were meant to be. You’ll adjust,” he promised. “Come to love me like I love you.”

This time when he pulled you back to him you didn’t resist, tears falling freely down your face. You knew he was right. You wanted a baby desperately and you’d do anything to keep it. 

You were trapped.


End file.
